Run
by Fairy Struck
Summary: Maybe if he was lucky he would never have to see the Emperor Mage again.- Arram Draper


**A/N:** So I'm back and now I have a spell check! I didn't have one on my last fan fiction and thought it was about time to get a writing program with one. Anyways, on with the story. Torch it. Have fun.

**Run**

_Arram Draper knocked softly on the door to Lindhall Reeds office in the university of Carthak. The sound echoed gently in the enclosed space before a slightly disheveled man answered the door. _

"_Ah, Arram. Come in, come in." His professor and one of his closest friends beckoned. The room looked as though the creatures Lindhall loved so much had run through it in a stampede. Glass tanks scattered the floor, some filled with plant life and others still looking like nothing more then glass cubes. The only cage that was complete was the turtles. The same turtle that Arram was bitten by three times a visit. He stared smugly at its glass prison. He could have sworn it glared back. "His Imperial Majesty was here looking for you. Wants you to find him at the temple when you can." Lindhall reported vaguely. _

"_Thanks, I was wondering if you had seen him. Good luck with," Arram glanced around, "All this." He personally though his mentor would never get the project done. Leaving he thought of his plans with Varice for that night._

The boat rocked gently as it docked, jostling the same man from his dreams, his nightmares.

His memories.

The black robed mage rubbed his aching head, the voyage over the Great Inland Sea had been surprising uneventful. _Ozorne didn't suspect me to get this far_ he thought bitterly. And who could blame him? Arram Draper was the soft and quiet student. He made speeches about the duty all magic users had to the non and flinched at the thought of killing any creature. Let alone a human. A face flashed through his tortured mind. As quickly as he could conjure a wall of flame he blocked the image. And with that wall Arram began to see a distinction of his selves. Who he was and who he was becoming. Shaking his head he made his way above deck while wearing his disguise as the Black Gods Priest. He didn't let the tears escape.

He still had a long way to go.

_Arram knocked softly on the frame of the door to the Graveyard Hags Temple. His Imperial Majesty Ozorne Muhassin Tasikhe was staring at a statue of the obscure goddess before an alter laid with fresh flowers. The young ruler turned to face his friend and at a nod dismissed the guards who had accompanied him. With such a rebellious country it was lunacy to travel alone. _

_Grabbing his friend by the shoulders the Emperor guided him to a bench. Pulling papers written in some odd language from his robes as he went. _

"_I found these in the Imperial Library and thought you should take a look, friend. Fascinating information is buried there Arram. Just imagine what we could find, what we could do." The black robed mage merely gave a noncommittal nod to this. Ozorne had been saying a lot of comments like this lately even though he knew Arram's intentions of returning home. He was dangling offers, tempting offers he had to admit, in front of him as though that alone would make him stay. He beat down these thoughts with images of his family. The Empire had enough mages and they didn't need more. Tyra, with its swamp lands and mandatory trading for survival, needed him. Taking the papers the newly made ruler offered he felt his mind go into its mode of study. _

"_Impossible." His breath coming out in a sigh of wonder._

People gave the Black Gods Priest a wide birth as he came down the ramp onto the dry land. The cowl of his robe covered his face in shadow. The young mage had no memories of collecting the robe. He didn't know half of what he had done. The images surged against his wall as though trying to remind him of the price he paid for his survival.

"_The Library has the spells to the barrier between the worlds." His mind reeled with the possibilities. "Where did you find this?" Arrams hands trembled. Ozorne retracted his arm from his book worm of a friend and began to pace in front of him. The Graveyard Hags statue loomed behind him, appearing more menacing then it ever had._

"_Around. I was only able to translate the beginning. Does it say the spell?" Arram was too wrapped up in the translation to notice the edge that had crept into the Emperors voice._

"_I think these are the spells that put it up." His voice trailing away as his finger skimmed the ancient parchment paper. _

"_And the spells to take it down? Are they there?" Arram looked up to meet the fevered golden eyes. An ugly truth was coming upon him, previous acts of Ozorne's were clicking into place inside of his mind. Actions and rants that made no sense before._

"_Why?" He nearly winced when he heard the suspicion in his voice. He didn't know the reason but he felt the need to flee from the man who was slowly lowering the mask on his face. Greed, need, control replacing excitement and kindness. Standing Arram drew nearer to the exit still facing his friend._

"_Think of what we could do. Take down the barrier between the divine and the mortal realms. It mentions immortals, yes? Why not bring them out? Think of the knowledge we could obtain. Creatures who have lived far longer then our records go back." The Emperor was frightening him. _

"_What about the Gods? Do you really think they'll let you do this? What you're saying is madness. I won't help you." Arram thought it was one of the bravest moments of his life. _

Arram Draper made his way off the docks. He was out of Carthak but the instinct of flight was driving him forward. It didn't matter that a sea separated them. Ozorne would find him. He had to keep moving.

"_Won't help me?" His Imperial Majesty repeated as though trying to recall the last time someone had defied him. "I gave you opportunities that your school mates would have died for and you throw that back in my face the moment I ask for assistance? You swear I am your friend and then turn on me?" With each question he drew closer to Arram, who was wondering why he hadn't left. Why was he still listening to this mad man._

"_You _are_ my friend but I will not stand by and watch as you attempt to tear down our only protection from the immortals. You'll bring down the wrath of the Gods!" Arram wondered why he was still clutching the paper, it didn't even hold the spell Ozorne sought. Maybe if he thought it did though…_

"_Who needs the Gods? This isn't their world, what business do they have here? Why waste money on offerings to them when they can worship me?" Neither noticed when the flowers shriveled on the alter to the Graveyard Hag at this comment. The Gods had turned their backs on Carthak. Emerald fire glowed around Ozorne now. "If you won't help me give it back." His other hand beckoned._

"_No." It came out as a whisper._

"_Excuse me?" Ozorne tilted his head to one side, his eyes still burning with their insanity._

"_No." Arram repeated, straightening as he did so. His left hand came up as though to catch the fireball Ozorne threw. Clutching the paper in his right and Ozorne's magic in his left he begged "Please don't make me fight you. Reconsider." In answer Ozorne threw another. Lobbing the fireball in his left hand back at his opponent Arram caught the second in his right. The smell of burnt paper filled the air. Ozorne now lay in a heap, caught up in the backlash of his own shield spell. Why he had risked burning the spell sheet in the first place Arram would never know. _

"_You betrayed me." It came out as a whisper as Arram dropped the ashes to the floor of the temple. "Help!" He called in a louder voice, Arram looked back in puzzlement. The guards came running. Their Emperor lay at the feet of one his friends. The smell of fire seemed to cling in the air. As though further proving this point his Imperial Majesty's hands glowed, most likely in self defense. The order did not even need to come. The guards attacked the mage. Arram didn't stop to think. _

_Black fire, sparkled with light, plugged the mans mouth and nose. His blue eyes wide with panic. And then the fixed stare of one who had passed beyond the world of the living. The blue eyes. So innocent. Only following orders, doing his job. Arram attacked involuntarily. He didn't feel or see. He ran with Ozorne's shrieks echoing in his ears._

_Keep running. Do not look back._

_He wasn't sure how he ended up on that lone ship to Tortall. It was a blur, as though another person had inhabited his body to get him to where he was now. He didn't know how he had gotten his disguise or how many lives he had taken to earn his freedom. For the first time in his life Arram Draper did not want to think at all._

The entire idea of thievery seemed degrading to the young man. He was one of the most powerful mages in the world and here he was stealing a pack and some food from a poor stall owner. _You killed. You should be able to steal. _A voice in his mind said. Flinching away from it the mage who was slowly losing his idea of who and what he was made for the edges of town. Wanting to avoid the public eye this far south the conflicted soul of a man enter the fringe of the forest.

After hours of trekking through the unfamiliar scenery, cool lakes and pine trees, the young man came to the crest of a hill. Tired in physical, emotional and magical aspects the black robed mage slid to his knees in the thick grass. The country of Tortall spread beneath him like a map. His new home. With this different landscape he could feel the remnants of the university student he had been slip away. The name Arram Draper didn't seem to fit anymore. _A new land, a new name. A new me _he mused. He would need to be on the move constantly to keep off anyone radar.

Maybe if he was lucky nothing of significance would happen in his life. Maybe no one would ever know he came to Tortall. Maybe he would never need to use the full extent of his Gift. Maybe if the Gods smiled on him he would never step foot in Carthak again. Perhaps if fortune was kind the young man would never again look upon the face of the Emperor Mage.

"I might just lead a normal life." He thought aloud.

Beyond the Mortal Realm a Goddess listened to the young man who would one day become Numair Salmalin. The Goddess had taken interest in the mage awhile back. He had an interesting life ahead of him. Hearing him utter that last sentence Shakith, Goddess of Seers, could have laughed.

_If only he knew._

**A/N: **Sorry about the ending. I know it seems random but I couldn't resist. I thought that since Numair is always using the curse 'Mithros, Mynoss and Shakith!' it might be appropriate. And it only seems logical that some God or Goddess took a minor interest in him at some point. He _is_ critical to the future of Tortall after all. Anyway…I hope you liked it. Please review!


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